The Dragon Rider Chronicles - Descent Into Zeron
by The Love of Dragons
Summary: The plan was for Jacob to go home, NOT end up in a third realm entirely. Thrown into a land of fire-breathing creatures extinct on earth and rare menaces in Narnia, bad timing puts Jacob square in the enemy's crosshairs. Shadows are everywhere and home is through the abyss with only the Dragon Riders and the Pevencies to pull him out. (Son of Dragons trilogy, Book Two)
1. Chapter 1

Prologue

Real Dragons. No, real dragons that _talked. _The first proposition was hard enough to get my head around, but the second was just…no. Absolutely not. On top of all this, there was the bizarre fact that they talked _English_ English, as in a slight British accent.

Fathom that tidbit for a while.

One way or another I didn't want to admit any of this existed, even as a spear whizzed by and embedded itself in the wall next to me. Before my mind could fully process it, Peter and I's horses panicked, Peter's lurching ahead as I had to grab the reigns with both hands to keep my horse from rearing.

I vaguely heard shouts, horses barreling at us, and arrows pinging off of Peter's shield or whizzing by my head before one sank clear into my thigh. My world lit up with pain. Horrible, awfull agony. My mind told my hands to keep ahold of the reigns, but my muscles wouldn't listen and the horse shrieked one more time before I fell completely off

_Snap! _Another spasam raced through my leg as the arrow snapped and I collapsed to the ground. There wasn't time to sit around though, as Peter had slipped off his mount and was running back towards me. The assaliants were coming too.

There were about ten in total, and I was injured.

There was no one we could trust, and no one was coming to get us


	2. Running From Bears and Meeting Friends

Chapter One

Three Days Earlier

The stag Peter, Edmund, and I had been hunting in the woods just west of Cair Paravel had slipped away from our grasp and went straight for Edmund who was waiting to trap it. Everything began to go awry when we heard what we though was a talking bear behind us before we turned to see it charge.

That is how we ended going up from Narnia into Zeron, not that we knew it at the time. I had wanted, no, _needed_ to go home for the sake of my sanity.

Apparently, the God I believed in had allowed everything to be upended, again.

This was getting really, old.

But, at that moment, we just needed to run. And we did, for about ten more yards before it became clear that there would be no outrunning this and we would be forced to kill first and ask questions later.

Just when we were ready to stop running, three arrows whizzed by us and the bear collapsed with a low groan. Peter and I were both out of breath and just stood there panting. It took a minute for the precious air to fill our lungs again and I looked up, expecting to see Edmund or maybe Destrier.

I certainly did not expect to see a stranger. The man's face was the first thing that stood out to me. He had a slight beard, enough to cover up the jawbone with hair a rich, dark brown. There were scars, too. Two crossed in an x-shape over his right eye, a third with a slight convex arc ran from under his left eye bag to under the left nostril, ending just shy of his lip. The eyes were black pupils with almost golden yellow irises. He was bundled in a thick jacket over a brown shirt. Thick linen pants ran down to sturdy leather boots. A dagger rested on his belt and a hunting quiver on his back.

Peter must have finally caught his breath but a moment after because he started rambling. "Edmund! Thank the Lion you are here! Some…"

I promptly elbowed him in the ribs. "Ahh, dude, you might want to look at who your addressing."

Peter straightened up; eyes just slightly wide. "Pardon me, but there appears to have been some confusion. I am Peter of Narnia and this is my brother's apprentice, Jacob."

The man nodded. "Burin of Woodstock. But what is this Narnia you speak of; I haven't heard of it before."

Peter arched his eyebrows. "You must be from the lands south of Calormene then. What brought you this far north?"

"You must be more confused than I thought, I don't know of this 'Calormene' either."

"Hmm. Perhaps it would be best we find some lodging then."

Burin smiled. "Now that I can most assuredly help with."

Peter glanced back at the bear. "What do we do with the bear."

That question was answered promptly when Burin went to work salvaging as much meat as he could. Peter and I pocketed a decent hunk of it as well. The softness in our pockets was getting old very quickly, but there wasn't much we could do about it.

And so, we plugged on, hiking through the forest as Burin shared some history.

We were apparently in a land called Zeron, and it was obvious by now that we were in an entirely different world. That fact alone had me in denial. I wanted so badly to be home. I _needed _to be home. Why God? Were you trying to make me doubt and question? I had already done that. This could not be happening, this was not happening, I refused to believe it.

Legend stated that humans had come to Zeron from an entirely different dimension and the dragons learned to speak from them. The validity of that myth mattered not. What did matter was that the dragons did learn to talk at some point and that the dragon riders were integral to the security of Zeron.

The natives were another story. Their history was far darker. There had been early interaction between the Zirkani and both dragons and humans. Either way you looked at it, one thing was certain, they were evil through and through. Known kidnappers and occult worshipers, the Zirkani had done nothing but persecute the humans for decades and the dragons for centuries. In fact, it was this hatred to a large degree that had caused humans and dragons to band together.

In any event, the path back home had just become difficult. For the time being, the next step was to find someplace to rest and collect our thoughts, and that awaited in

Cornwall.

It had been roughly three in the afternoon when Burin found us, and we started toward Cornwall. In all honesty, it did take me by surprise for a moment at how starkly English it was having Cornwall for a town name. Maybe I was expecting something more fantasy-like, I don't know. Waterfall City, now _that_ was the sort of name I expected.

The possibility that I was also overthinking all of this was also there.

Anyways…

We hiked for roughly the next three hours silent in conversation as we worked out way through the forest. Peter and burin had mumbled conversation, although it slowly died out as the terrain became tougher and attention turned on where our feet were stepping. The forest seemed mostly deciduous and the trees seemed to be this world's version of hardwoods like oak and fir. Underbrush was moderate, enough to slow us down a little bit but not impassable. As the sun finally started setting Burin called camp for the night, explain that another four hours of hiking would bring us to Cornwall right about noon tomorrow.

Our spot for the night only took a few minutes to find, Burin and Peter setting up camp while I went out and started looking for enough tender to start the campfire and a few thick logs to keep it burning for a while.

My nerves must have still been raw because It seemed like everything around me was magnified, from the sounds to my brain trying to process this second reality we had been unceremoniously dumped into. After what must have been about an hour and a half my arms were bursting with wood as I headed back toward the camp. I had had enough clarity to mark the path with my knife as I went to specifically avoid getting lost.

With the wood replenished, we rolled a couple of logs up to the fire and settled in as Burin filled us in on some more of Zeron's history.

"So, I understand the natives now, nasty suckers if ever there were some, but what exactly happened with Coronado? And what about the Dragon Riders? From the way you describe it, they sound as if the last war was their first real test."

Burin chuckled. "Well, I'll answer those in turn. As far as Coronado, most of its honestly myth and legend. There has always been rumors that if we could access the tomb of the palace mage from that time, there's records carved into the walls. Ach, that is the myth anyways. About all we know for sure is that it started with people randomly disappearing. Eventually that forced Coronado's father, Franklin, and the dragon king at that time stretched themselves thin. The Zirkani took advantage of it too, and in the chaos kidnapped Coronado."

I quirked my eyebrow up. "And the people?"

"They started showing up and tried to go back to a normal life after being rescued. That was when the whole world turned on its head though. Coronado's father was already struggling, and then this stranger managed to get an audience with him and turns out it was Nedil. Coronado's father didn't find that out until later, but for whatever reason he decided to trust the stranger."

Peter smirked. "So, let me guess, the 'stranger' gave just enough detail for an assault."

"Aye." Burin nodded solemnly. "Turns out those tidbits were just enough for a full assault. Coronado's father did not waste any time either. He rounded up his army – leaving enough men behind to safeguard Waterfall City – and the Dragon Riders before heading for the Zirkani's capital city."

"So, what exactly did happen?" For better or worse, Burin had my attention now.

"I don't know completely, no one really does. Most of what went on has been lost to legend, supposedly written on Nedil's tomb, and sealed with him when he died. About the only thing we know for sure is that it was a great victory for good. The Zirkani were defeated and as the battle was ending there was a huge earthquake and the city, and the immediate area sunk nearly two-hundred feet. Been that way ever since.

"And Coronado," Peter asked with a crease across his brow.

"Disappeared. The 'mysterious figure' as the stranger had been calling himself managed to gain a private audience with the king afterwards and revealed himself, laying everything bare. Whatever he said, it was enough to keep Coronado's father from killing him on the spot. He served out the rest of his days as the new mage, allegedly making trips somewhere in the city for years.

"But that's enough for tonight lads, I think we could all do with some shuteye."

A look at the slowly dying fire and yawns all around were enough to convince us and we turned in for the night, Burin taking his tent while Peter and I took the other one.

Sleep was restless that night. I normally don't have dreams. Well, let me restate that. I usually do not _remember_ those dreams. I know the dreams are there, because I can feel them moving but it feel like they're under a black blanket because I never seem to see them.

That sure was not the way I slept that night. I saw everything, and man it was vivid. For whatever reason, the dream put me back in the attack on the Zirkani capital with Coronado of all people. It was some sort of rocky underground area with fumes all around. Coronado was coughing and hacking and looked like he had had the tar beaten out of him rather good. He managed to crawl to his feet and start hobbling away, only for me to catch a glimpse of his eyes. They were not human at all and reptilian like. And they were red, deep red. He muttered something else about coming back for revenge – I couldn't really remember then – and those eyeballs just kept staring at me. And staring, and staring, and staring…"

"Ahh!"

I jerked awake with a start, yelping in shock, and jerking up as I woke out of the dream with a start.

"Heaven's Jacob, what's the matter?"

I groaned and rubbed my eyes. "Oy. Sorry man, just a really bad dream."

"It doesn't have anything to do with last night's storytelling does it?"

"Eh, maybe."

Peter frowned and I just chuckled. "Dude, relax, it was just a dream. A bad one sure, but still a dream."

Peter arched his eyebrow. He clearly did not believe me. "If you say so."

Peter did manage to fall asleep after a little while, but I was having no suck luck. Eventually the remaining few hours passed, and dawn broke the clouds as I heard Peter stir and stretch and a groan as Burin came out of his tent.

"Come on then, up and at it." I harrumphed. "Huh. Never made it back to sleep."

Peter grimaced. "Ouch."

"Come on lads, up and at 'em!" Burin's call finally forced Peter and I to drag ourselves off of the mats and stretch before coming out of the tent, very groggily in my case. Burin took one look at me. "Ay lad, hope you didn't have as bad a night's sleep as it looks like."

"Close to it. Don't worry about slowing down on my account, I can keep up." Burin nodded and we set about cleaning camp. In about an hour, we had everything rounded up and packed onto the horses ready to go. With an umph, we slung ourselves onto our horses and resumed our trek slightly southwest toward Cornwall. It was silent for a little while at first before I heard Peter and Burin striking up conversation again.

"So, I take it you've known this friend of yours long then?"

"Who, Reeve?"

"I think that's who I mean. He's the one we ought to be able to borrow the horse from, right?"

Burin chuckled. "He is indeed. Been best friends with the man long as I can remember. We practically grew up together. Gaming, fishing, just about everything you can think of. 'Course, that did include our fair bit of mischief mind you."

Peter laughed at that one. "I understand indeed. It's same with my brother and I."

Burin grinned. "Then indeed you do friend. I have known Chancellor Uranus for many years too, starting way before he held any type of position. He and his parents used to come out this way on Holidays or when they were visiting family up in Dragon City. Members of his family have been on staff at the dragon's castle off and on for the last forty years. Anyways, they would always stop by my selling area if they could and pick up some fresh meat. His father virtually swore by it."

"Interesting. Some neat family history to "soak up" as Jacob puts it."

"You know, that is an interesting young man you brought with you. "

"indeed, he is. But…he has one of the biggest hearts you'll see."

"Of that, friend Peter, I have no doubt"

The horses crested a knoll, and with a gesture of Burin's hand, Peter's eyes roamed over the town of Cornwall. It looked like a typical village with a small collection of thatched roof houses and smoke curling out from what was probably a town smithy.

We had made it to Cornwall

"It looks rather homey," Peter observed with a rub of his chin.

"It is indeed. No more sleeping on the ground tonight friends, a bed and hot food await you down there."

"Did I hear something about food?" Peter and Burin glanced at each other and laughed before Peter leveled a sly grin at me. "Ha-ha. Your stomach doesn't have to wait much longer, no."

"Good!" Burin shook his head and as we started following the path downhill toward town. There were guards by the solitary entry arch, flanked by a pair of guards. Although at this point it was probably more of a function thing considering there were dragon riders and a regular standing army for national security.

I had a sly grin on my face as we rode through. "Gee, guess they don't believe in walls very much, do they?"

"Well, considering…" Peter just let the statement hang.

Burin exchanged a nod and greetings with the guards as we passed under the arch and up the main road. Kids and chickens scurried about here and there with people giving us polite nods and occasional wave from someone Burin knew. Within about a minute and a half of riding through the main gate the soft neighing of horses told us the stable was nearby. We rounded the corner to find a couple of horses in the outside pen. One of the stable hands walked around the alley corner with a load of manure and a second disappeared into the stables with a neck yoke holding two water buckets.

"Hail, Stable Master!" One of the men leaning on the corral fence turned around and let his face light up with a grin. "Eh, Burin, you snake! What beings you back this way? And who are your friends?"

"Very funny Reeve. This Sir Peter and his brother's squire, Jacob." Reeve's eyes widened just a hair before he nodded at Peter. "Ay, forgive me, Sir Knight. Anything you need, just ask." Peter nodded. "Many thanks friend, but please, just Peter and Jacob are fine."

Reeve nodded. "Very well. Now, is there anything I can do for you lads?"

"Hehe. Well, if it wouldn't be too much trouble Reeve, we have some urgent information that needs to make it to the Chancellor in Waterfall City. Was wondering if there was a way to borrow a few horses."

Reeve scratched his head in thought a second and then gave a quick, tight nod. "I reckon we could do that. After all, any friend of Burin's here is a friend of mine."

Peter replied with his thanks. "Your offer is very generous friend; you have our sincerest thanks."

Reeve just waved us off. "Don't worry about it, really. Now then, seeing as it is awfully close to the noon meal, at least share a meal with us before you leave."

"I think we could be persuaded of that. Jacob?"

"One word. FOOD!"

The comment earned a chuckle all the way around, Burin recovering enough to give out some instructions. "Alright friends, we might as well select your mounts now, so as you can ride them over to the house. Pogrim!"

The boy that had carried the water in came darting back out. "Yes sir?"

"Run and grab two sets of tack for our new friends here and meet us in the stables. Pogrim nodded sharply and darted off to the side of the building, presumably where the tack and saddle room was. "Come on then, let me show you what's available." Reeve gestured and we followed him inside.

All told, it took us about twenty minutes to pick out a couple horses. I ended up picking a black and white paint mare with a brown star on her head and Peter went with a shiny brown male, both quarter horses.

"They don't happen to have names, do they?" Pogrim had returned with the tack and after and I had my mount bridled and saddled.

"Soo… Got any names for these guys Reeve?"

"Well, never really needed to, I guess. I am not opposed to it, just never thought of it since these are our renter horses. Go ahead if you want."

"Ok. Well, how about Star Paint 'cause of the star on her forehead and since coloring would be considered a 'paint' back home."

"Ha! I love it!" Burin's energetic support was all it took. As for Peter, he named his Steadfast. Burin told us goodbye temporarily at that point. He had a few other things to attend to in town but said he would meet us at the gate on our way out. Reeve tacked up his own mount, and after leaving his foreman in charge for the duration of lunch the three of us rode out, Reeve in the lead with me in the middle and Peter taking up the rear.


End file.
